And things is going to be very different with us in seven years, Travis. “WALTER (Gathering him up in his arms) You know what, Travis? In seven years you going to be seventeen years old. And that such a thing as my own death will be an advance? They who might kill me even. to step out of the shadows some evening and slit my then useless throat? Don't you see they have always been there. Don't you see that there will be young men and women, not British soldiers then, but my own black countrymen. perhaps the things I believe now for my country will be wrong and outmoded, and I will not understand and do terrible things to have things my way or merely to keep my power.
and perhaps for it I will be butchered in my bed some night by the servants of empire. I mean perhaps I will hold on to the substance of truth and find my way always with the right course. But I will look about my village at the illiteracy and disease and ignorance and will not wonder long. And I even will have moments when I wonder if the quiet was not better than all that death and hatred. the sudden dramatic events which make history leap into the future. At times it will seem that nothing changes at all. But I will teach and work and things will happen, slowly and swiftly.
“I will go home and much of what I will have to say will seem strange to the people of my village.
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